His Little Miracle
by famigleea
Summary: The unthinkable happens, and Kurt has to learn to deal with the aftermath. But sometimes you have to fight through some bad days to earn the best ones of your life. [Triggers, future Puckurt.] NO MPreg.
1. Drowning

Warnings: This story will contain semi-graphic rape, the use of drugs to facilitate sexual assault, and teen parenthood. This will eventually be slash between Puck and Kurt, but romance will not occur for a _very_ long time.

This story was inspired by Aishuu's **Let the Rain Sing You a Lullaby**.

I'm looking for a beta if anybody is interested and willing. Please review, and I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter 1 – Drowning

"_Keep your head up, baby, because there are people who will kill to see you fall."_

That's what his mother used to say to him. Kurt remembered sitting by her hospital bed as she slowly withered away. She'd grabbed his hand and smiled, even though it looked painful for her to do so. At the time he hadn't fully understood what she'd meant. He was only seven years old and had still believed that when he grew up everything would be better. He wouldn't get picked on anymore, and maybe Noah would stop taking his cookies at lunch time.

But his mother knew. She had known her son was different, and that his life would be difficult because of those differences. He wondered if she knew just how badly his life was turning out to be. Still, she always wore a smile and had a warm embrace when he would cry about his classmates' cruelty. Elizabeth Hummel was an amazing wife and mother, and when she died it was like all of the color bled out of the world. Although he still had his father, Kurt would never stop missing the woman who had meant so much to him.

Every now and then, particularly after a rough day at school, Kurt would repeat those words in his head. _Keep your head up. Keep your head up. Keep your head up._

It made things a little easier to deal with. And as he got older, he started to realize exactly what his mother meant. As he began high school, Kurt discovered just how cruel people could be. The start of his freshman year was the start of what the unpopular people at McKinley High started calling dumpster dives. It was like name-calling simply wasn't enough anymore. In the back of his mind, Kurt knew he would be targeted by bullies. With his delicate features, high voice, and impeccable taste in the latest fashion do's, it really was a given. He hadn't expected to be tossed in a dumpster, though.

The experience was beyond humiliating. His clothes had gotten what looked like pasta on them, and he knew he smelled hideous. And every class he went to, people would scrunch their noses and look at him as if he belonged on the bottom of a shoe. Others laughed, particularly the tough-looking boys that used to push him around on the playground. And when the teachers did nothing but look down their noses at him, Kurt realized that that was what people thought of him: something that belonged in the trash.

"Faggot," they'd sneer. And nobody did anything to stop them, or to help him.

There weren't many people that were nice to him. Everybody seemed to either hate him for being gay (and he hadn't even come out the closet yet) or avoided him to not attract any trouble from the jocks. In fact, he could name the people that have been kind to him on one hand. There was the Spanish teacher, Mr. Schuester, who would offer him a smile but also usually walked by when he was surrounded by menacing jocks in an obviously unfriendly setting; there was Miss Pillsbury, the guidance counselor, who was jittery and looked like a bit of a nutcase herself; and there was also Mr. Ryerson, the Glee club director, but he gave Kurt creepy stares that made him feel like he was being preyed upon.

He was alone.

Kurt never cried in front of them, opting to sob his despair in the privacy of his own bedroom late at night. Instead, he'd found himself bringing spare clothes, and he'd pick himself out of the garbage with a few scathing remarks. _Keep your head up_. These people wouldn't see him fall. He'd never give them the satisfaction. High school might be hell, but eventually he'd get his happy ending, and the bastards in Lima who thought of him as nothing but trash would all work for him.

But until then, Kurt had to tough it out.

And he thought that'd be easy. Freshman year wasn't too hard, and he'd even made a friend, Grace. Sure, he'd gotten tossed into dumpsters and had slushies thrown in his face, but Kurt had discovered that putting up with all of the bullshit was easier when he had someone by his side.

And now, months later, Kurt can't help but regret ever meeting her.

"Kurt, are you okay?" his father called, knocking on the door.

Kurt sighed miserably. He was on his knees in the bathroom of their shop. For a moment, he stared at the toilet and wondered if he was going to hurl. He certainly felt like he should. "Yeah, dad, just feeling a little under the weather," he called back.

A few moments pass by in silence. When his stomach stopped turning and the feeling of his insides wanting to evacuate his body came to a halt, he stood up and washed his hands. Kurt splashed some cold water on his face for good measure. Staring hard in the mirror, he repeated his mother's words over and over.

_Keep your head up._

And, fuck, that was so hard to do right now.

He stepped out of the bathroom to meet his father's concerned eyes. Kurt hated making his dad worry, and he knew he looked a fright. His normally perfect hair was unkempt and he was actually wearing greasy coveralls. Kurt had even skipped his skin care routine more often than not since summer vacation started.

His father stared at him. "There's, uh, something I wanted to show you," his father said after another moment of uncomfortable silence.

Kurt smiled weakly. "What is it?"

Burt gently took Kurt's hand and tugged him along, his rough calloused hand softly holding Kurt's soft delicate one. "Now, I know you said you didn't really want anything for your birthday, but, well, with all that happened, I thought you'd really need this."

_He couldn't move. Someone was on top of him, high-pitched moans and the smell of lavender… _

Kurt fought hard to keep his flinch down. Nausea coiled in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to remember Grace and that night so many months ago, but every now and then something would take him back and he'd nearly lose his lunch. When his father winced, Kurt squeezed his hand. "It's okay," he assured quietly. _I'm okay,_ is what he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to utter such a complete lie. Not when it was beyond obvious that the events a few months ago still haunted him.

Burt gave his son a look that spoke volumes. "No, it's not," he said just as softly, "but it _will_ be. We'll get through this."

Kurt licked his lips and nodded. Because despite how shitty he felt, he knew on some level that his dad was right. They would get through this. Eventually.

"So what is it that you wanted to give me?" Kurt asked.

Burt seemed a little relieved at the change in subject. "Take a look for yourself," he said as lead Kurt to the front door and opened it.

Kurt stepped outside with a puzzled look before his eyes took in the sight in front of him. His eyes widened and he gasped quietly, his hands shooting up to his face. Parked in front of the shop was a beautiful, shiny, sleek black Lincoln Navigator. He knew this because Kurt had had his eye on one since he was fourteen. This car was _beautiful_. Kurt turned to his dad and hugged him as hard as he could. Burt nearly melted, returning the hug with as much enthusiasm as he could without hurting his son. Ever since The Incident, Kurt couldn't stop himself from craving his father's comforting embraces.

"Thanks, dad," Kurt whispered hoarsely, taking a moment to control his emotions.

Burt nodded his head, smiling. Using a finger, he lifted Kurt's head so that they were eye-level. "I don't want you to think I'm only doing this because of what happened," he said. Kurt almost pulled away, but Burt kept a careful hold on him. "Your mother and I always talked about getting you a car for your sixteenth birthday. Now, I know this isn't the exact one you wanted, but I figured that wouldn't really matter."

"It doesn't," Kurt piped in. He smiled. "I love it."

Burt flushed a little. "Yeah, well," he said, fumbling for something to say. "You'll have to pay for the gas yourself, and I know you're responsible enough to either bring her to me when she needs oil changes or tune ups, or even do it yourself. Your curfew remains the same, and I still expect a text message or phone call whenever you go out telling me where you're at and who you're with."

Kurt nodded. The rules were very reasonable, and he knew as well as Burt did that Kurt didn't really go out anywhere. Not before The Incident and certainly not after. Still, having the option to just go out and drive excited Kurt. His hands twitched and his father smirked knowingly before tossing him the keys.

"Can…?"

"Jimmy's gonna watch the shop for a few while we take her out for a drive," Burt informed him matter-of-factly.

Kurt squealed, gripping the keys tightly as he raced over to the car. He stopped just before he got in, however, looking at his greasy coveralls in horror. "Dad, we have to change," he said. "I won't have any grease stains not even ten minutes into my ownership of this beauty!"

Burt nodded his head expectantly. "Your clothes are in the back." He paused and rubbed his bald head. "I'm pretty sure they match, but if they don't I'm sorry. I don't know how to pair together all the stuff in your closet."

Kurt blinked. "I…" He didn't quite know what to say so he just hugged his father again and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, dad."

Burt blushed. "Go change," he said. "I'll put mine on in the office." Without another word, the elder Hummel turned around and headed back into the shop.

Kurt watched him go with a soft smile. Not for the first time in his life did he wonder what exactly he did to deserve such a great dad. The past few months had been hard beyond reason, but Burt was with him every step of the way, an unwavering presence of comfort and support. His father had barely batted an eyelash when Kurt came out, and had cried with him when he confessed his deepest shame, The Incident.

Kurt opened the car door and found the bag with his clothes in it. He grabbed it, inhaling the fresh scent in the car. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior with leather seats (_real_ leather) and recently vacuumed floors. Kurt couldn't resist petting the seat before he snapped out of it and practically flew inside the shop to change in the bathroom.

His father actually didn't choose bad clothes. Of course, none of Kurt's clothes were bad, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that everything matched. Granted, he normally paired these jeans with his boots instead of the Converse his father had bought him several months ago, but they went together quite well.

By the time he was done changing, his father had just finished giving Jimmy, his assistant manager, directions, not that he really needed it. At Hummel Tires & Lube, they had a really good team. Jimmy had been working with Burt since Kurt wore diapers. Kurt considered him an uncle, and the other older members were also considered family.

Burt noticed him and finished his conversation with Jimmy. Jimmy gave Kurt a thumbs up and a grin which had him blushing slightly in excitement. Without waiting for his father, Kurt raced to his car and buckled himself in. He actually let out a whimper when he saw the dash and console, taking in the GPS and radio and overall feel of _his_ car. Adjusting his mirrors as his dad slipped into the passenger's seat, Kurt turned on the Navigator and grinned when it purred to life.

The soundtrack to _Wicked_ came on, making him squeal all the more. "When did you take this?" he asked his father, eyeing him with a newfound appreciation.

Burt shrugged. "You know you take forever in the bathroom."

Kurt laughed lightly. "Sneaky!" He rubbed the steering wheel with his thumbs. "So where to, dad?"

"I was thinking we should go to the mall." His father sounded almost hesitant.

Kurt gave him a puzzled look. "The mall? You never go there voluntarily."

Burt nodded his head. He turned to Kurt and looked him in the eye. "You're going to need things…you know…for the baby."

Kurt's spine stiffened almost on its own accord. Most people would be excited at the prospect of welcoming a new baby into the world, but Kurt found it hard to be really excited. On the one hand, he never thought he would get to have a child of his own and a part of him wanted a child. On the other hand, his ex-best friend Grace sort of drugged him and had sex with him when he was barely conscious and didn't even bother to use a condom. The Incident.

He just turned sixteen. Kurt didn't think he was ready to have a kid, but at the same time when he was trying to decide what he wanted to do, he found he couldn't bear the thought of signing away his baby for adoption. Plus, though his father tried to remain impartial and allow Kurt to make the decision on his own, Kurt knew Burt was a little excited to have a grandchild of his own.

None of them had planned on having a baby to welcome to their household, but they were "rolling with the punches" as Burt put it.

And Kurt wasn't afraid to admit he was terrified. That seemed to pretty much be the norm as of late.

When he woke up that November morning, he'd had no recollection of the night previous. All he could remember was arriving at Grace's house, not thinking about the fact that her parents were out of town, and then her offering her a drink. He woke up scared and groggy, and his suspicions were only confirmed when he realized he and Grace were both naked in bed.

His first instinct had been to run. He'd put on his clothes as fast as he could, for once not giving a damn about fashion and looking presentable, and bolted. Grace had picked him up from his house, so he ran and ran until Grace's house disappeared from view. It was a four mile walk from her house to his, but he didn't care. Kurt spent most of the walk trying to come to terms with what he suspected had happened as well as trying to walk a straight line. Whatever she had slipped him, because there was _no way_ he'd lose almost eleven hours without the help of a drug, it had made it very hard to move correctly.

And when he had gotten home almost two hours later, his father had already been at the shop. Kurt had taken a steaming hot shower in an attempt to scrub the dirtiness away. It was only when the water had nearly gone completely cold that Kurt started bawling, crying as hard as he had when his mother passed.

Kurt hid what had happened to him for months, feeling so deeply ashamed that he'd been taken advantage of by a _girl_ who wasn't nearly as strong as him. But when Grace's parents called at the end of March, about four months after The Incident, angrily informing Burt that his son had gotten their little girl pregnant, the truth had come tumbling out. Part of him expected his father to be upset or disgusted with him, but Burt held him and they rocked and cried together.

The meeting between the Hummels and the Cooks had been beyond tense. Kurt had never met Grace's parents, but seeing them glare at him from across his dining room table had him shrinking in his seat. Burt wouldn't have any of it, though. His father waited with an amazing display of patience as they ranted about their baby girl's life effectively ruined. When they were finished, eyeing the Hummels expectantly, Burt spoke eloquently and in a manner usually only displayed in politics.

The Cooks, like any parents would, had immediately denied their sweet daughter having the ability to do something so horrible, but even their arguments had effectively died when Grace burst into tears and all but confessed.

"It was just something to help you love me," she had sobbed.

Kurt flinched still thinking about her parents' faces. Her mother had stared at her daughter looking absolutely horrified and disgusted, and her father had paled significantly.

And when Grace had launched herself at Kurt in an attempt to hug him, the feminine boy had flung himself away violently and Burt had stepped in front of his son protectively. That had effectively ended their talk. Grace's mother had to wrestle her into the car.

"Do you want to press charges?" her father had asked quietly.

It was amazing, the power of a single question. _Did_ he want to press charges? Simply put, _no_. Kurt just wanted to forget about it. He wanted to wake up and find out everything was a dream. But instead, he had to realize that that was his reality. And through no fault of his own, Kurt was expecting a baby. He was going to be a daddy.

He'd cried himself sick at that discovery.

However, after a month of careful deliberation and seeing his therapist, Kurt had come to the conclusion that he couldn't give up his baby. He didn't consent to the baby's conception, but a part of him just couldn't punish his baby for that.

This realization, of course, didn't help him get over his anger, bitterness, and resentment. He still hoped he'd wake up and discover everything was a nightmare, but with the help of his therapist Kurt was coming to terms with his life. He still wasn't looking forward to how different and how much harder his life would be, but he wouldn't change his mind.

Not when he saw how relieved his father had been when Kurt told him he wanted to keep the baby.

So after a couple of weeks of deliberation and negotiations, the Hummels agreed to not press charges and the Cooks agreed that Grace would sign away her parental rights after she gave birth as well as seek counseling. She hadn't seemed too happy about it, but she didn't really have much of a choice. Her parents recognized the deal for the gem it was. Despite the awfulness of her actions as well as the despairing consequences, Grace could avoid jail time and didn't have to become an unwed teenage mother.

And the baby, who was a boy they later found out, would be properly cared for by a young man who was willing to give up his carefree life as a teenager to take care of a child who was but in a way shouldn't be his responsibility.

"It kind of feels real," Kurt said after a while. "Before I could pretend that I'm really not going to be a dad, but now we're going to buy things and it'll be real. I'll really have a son."

Burt nodded his head and put his hand on Kurt's knee. "I am so proud of you," he said softly. "I _hate_ that this happened. I _hate_ that I wasn't able to protect you from something like this, but here you are, doing something you don't have to because you feel it's the right thing, and I couldn't be more proud at how you turned out. You're a lot like your mom, you know."

Kurt sniffled and gave his father a watery smile. "Would she be?" he asked so quietly Burt had to strain to hear him.

"Absolutely," Burt replied earnestly and without hesitation. "Now, we've put this off for as long as we could. I know the doctor's say she's due around the first week of August, but in all actuality the kid could come anywhere from now until that date. These things aren't an exact science. So we're going to get some stuff to be prepared. Okay?"

"I'm scared," Kurt whispered. "What if I mess up? Or what if I'm just not cut out for this?"

"Hey," his father murmured. "This parenting thing doesn't come with a manual. There will be times where you want to pull your hair out or scream or cry or all of that. I can't promise you that this will be easy, but I can promise you that I _will_ be here every step of the way. You will _not_ be alone in this, you hear me?"

Kurt wiped away his tears and nodded. "Put your seat belt on," he demanded, ignoring when his father chuckled.

They drove to the mall, and Kurt was beyond ecstatic at how smooth his new car ran. Kurt eyed some of the stores there longingly, but ignored the urge to shop his heart out. He was going to be a parent, and as fabulous as his wardrobe was, Kurt realized that he'd have to shift his priorities.

Surprisingly, however, he had a really good time with his father. They'd bought everything that was essential for a little baby boy: bottles, wipes, diapers, onesies, bibs, a car seat (which Kurt made sure would not clash with the interior of his car), and a little baby bath. They also bought a beautiful crib that Kurt thought would look fabulous next to his bed as well as toys. Kurt thought he'd enjoy buying baby clothes, but he quickly discovered that the clothes simply didn't match his standards. He had to buy some outfits, however, which he did grudgingly.

"You know, you're pretty good at fashion and following directions," Burt said nonchalantly. "You could always just make his clothes. That's what your mom did. In fact, I'm pretty sure I still have some of your old things in the attic."

That had stopped Kurt dead in his tracks. He'd never thought about making clothes, only keeping up with the latest trends. But if he could _make_ the clothes… The wheels turned in his head.

With that, Kurt also added fabrics and a How-To book in their already stuffed shopping cart. They were about to leave the mall when Kurt's stomach growled uncomfortably. Burt laughed and together they loaded the Navigator before walking back to the food court where they settled down to have dinner.

Kurt gasped, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth. "Dad, we forgot about the shop and Jimmy!"

Burt snorted around his pizza. "You kidding me? I told him to lock up. I knew shopping with you would take a million years."

Kurt pouted before taking a bite of his salad and sighing in bliss. "You know what, dad? I've been thinking a lot lately…"

"Go on," Burt said, eyeing his son suspiciously.

"I was wondering if you could maybe help me…get into shape?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

Burt put his pizza down and wiped his mouth. "May I ask why?"

Kurt shrugged, moving his fork around but not taking another bite. "I just… I just want to be able to take care of myself. I want to be _stronger_ and not worry about someone overpowering me _ever_ again…"

It was silent for a few moments before Kurt felt his father nudge his foot. He looked up and found Burt staring at him. "Of course I will," he said softly. "As a matter of fact, why don't I do it with you?"

Kurt blinked, a little stunned before his lips stretched into a smile. "You will?"

"Yeah." Burt nodded. "We'll both get into shape."

"And you'll start eating healthier?" Kurt looked at the greasy pizza pointedly.

Burt grimaced, but nodded his head again. "We'll have to lay some ground rules. I can't cut a lifetime of eating habits so quickly, but I'll try. Okay?"

"Deal!" Kurt grinned. They ate the rest of their dinner in a comfortable silence.

"This was nice," Burt said as they walked back to the car. He yawned, surprised that Kurt managed to make him spend several hours in the mall. "It's been a while since we've really spent time like this together."

"I had fun," Kurt confessed. "You know, after The Incident and everything, I've been feeling like I was drowning. No matter how many times I talked to Dr. Prescott, I just couldn't feel better."

"Kurt, it's going to take a long time for you to really get over what happened," his father said gently. "But we'll get through it. Nobody messes with the Hummels, yeah?"

Kurt nodded. "I feel better; lighter, almost. And I just want to say thanks. For, you know, being awesome."

Burt pulled him into a hug. "I always have your back."

Kurt squeezed his father tighter, inhaling the Old Spice his father adored. "I'm glad you're you."

And with that, they made their way home. Exhausted from their day, they agreed to unload the car the next morning. Burt kissed his head before they both went to shower and change into their pajamas. Without another word, the Hummels settled onto the couch to watch an episode of Deadliest Catch and Project Runway. They were both asleep before long, Kurt snuggled into his father's warm protective embrace.


	2. Rachel Berry

Sorry for the wait. Please read and review! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 2 – Rachel Berry

Kurt woke up warm and content. One glance at the clock on the wall showed it was only five in the morning. He stretched like a cat for a moment before extracting himself from his father's side and walking down the stairs to his room in the basement. It was the first night in a long time that Kurt hadn't had any awful dreams, or rather his repressed memories as his shrink told him.

Kurt stripped as he walked to the bathroom, dropping his clothes as he went and shivering at the slight chill. When the water was blissfully steamy, he hopped in and sighed in relief. The water cascaded down his back and for a moment Kurt just leaned against the cool shower tiles. After The Incident, Kurt's love for showers grew. It felt like the hot water could wash away the shame, humiliation, and bitterness.

He was feeling better than he had these last few months, and after he and his father bonded yesterday he finally felt truly clean.

When Kurt finally got out of the shower, it was a quarter after six. He dressed in his most comfy clothes; an old short-sleeved v-neck that had belonged to his mother, and a soft pair of his dad's sweatpants that he nicked from the laundry months ago. He ran up the stairs quickly, creeping out of the house when he noticed his dad was still sleeping. Kurt hummed softly to himself as he unloaded his Navigator, dropping bags off at the front door to make multiple trips quickly.

By the time he was done, Burt had woken up and made a pot of coffee. "Hey, you could've woke me up. I would've helped you," he said, handing Kurt a mug.

Kurt eyed the mug warily and sniffed it. A smile broke out on his face as he realized it was tea. It wasn't that he disliked coffee. In fact, he was a bit of an addict when he had the right cup. It's just his father's coffee was always too strong, too bitter. He took a long sip before replying, "I know, but you looked tired. All I did was bring the bags inside. I'll still need help taking them downstairs and assembling the crib."

Burt smiled. "Alright, yeah. How about we eat some breakfast first? Then we'll get everything set up in your room. Did you want to go to the attic and see what of your old things we can find?"

Kurt nodded his head. "I completely forgot about getting a baby carriage and a bassinet," he commented.

"I didn't. We have your old ones upstairs. I thought you'd want to use those. Your mom picked them out."

A comfortable silence filled the room. "I think I'd like that," Kurt finally said softly.

After breakfast, Burt left to shower while Kurt began taking some of the baby things to his room. He'd made space in his dresser right after he'd decided to keep the baby. Turning on his stereo, Kurt bobbed his head and sang along as he put away his son's (and wasn't _that_ just so weird to say, even in his head) things. He hadn't realized how many things he'd bought until the dresser drawers were stuffed to the brim with onesies, bibs, burping cloths, blankets, and clothes.

Kurt was startled when there was a loud bang, followed by a "Damn it!"

"Dad?" he called, quickly sprinting up the stairs. Burt was holding his foot, muttering under his breath. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Burt grunted. He gestured at the rocking chair next to him. "I dropped the damn thing on my foot."

Kurt gaped at the piece of furniture. He remembered his mother rocking him in it after a particularly rough day at school, singing softly and petting his hair. "Wow," he breathed. "I haven't seen this in forever." He glanced at his father and shook his head fondly. "Let me see your foot."

Burt rolled his eyes but let his son fuss at him. "I found the bassinet, but I can't find the carriage." He made to get up to get it, but Kurt held him down.

"Rest your foot, dad. I'll get it." Kurt didn't give his dad a chance to reply, opting to immediately go up the stairs for the bassinet and ignoring his father's complaints about how he wasn't crippled.

The bassinet was folded up and propped on the wall next to the door. He made to grab it, but his eye caught a box with his name on it. There were several boxes, actually, and all of them had his name in his mother's handwriting. Kurt's Toys, Kurt's Clothes, Kurt's Photos. He immediately opened the box with the clothes in it and sighed softly when his mother's perfume wafted towards him. It was a little stale and faint, but it was there. Grabbing one of the shirts, he brought it to his face and inhaled deeply.

Kurt remembered she'd worn this particular perfume all the time. It was a gift from his father, she'd told him with a smile. This scent was what would lull him to sleep many nights.

He didn't know how long he stood there, smelling the remnants of his mother's perfume and reminiscing before he felt his father's large hand on his shoulder. They shared a moment of silence, both missing the woman who made their day so much brighter with her mere presence.

"Come on," Burt said roughly. "I'm thinking after we finish setting everything up in the room, we can get started on this whole getting in shape thing."

Kurt nodded, wiping away tears he didn't know he'd shed.

Putting together the crib was more difficult than Kurt would have thought. All of the pieces looked the same in his eyes, and the pictures in the instructions weren't all that helpful. Neither was his father, who laughed himself silly at Kurt's obliviousness before getting on the floor to help him. Kurt absently wondered if he'd do this with his own son, but then shook his head to clear it. His son wasn't even born. No way in hell was he going to think about something that he would do his damndest to make sure was going to happen when his son was in his late twenties, possibly mid-thirties.

"You ok?" Burt asked, eyeing Kurt amusedly.

"Did you ever think of us doing this?" the countertenor asked suddenly.

Burt looked surprised for a moment. "Yeah, I did," he replied. "Of course, I always thought you'd be older. And then when you told me you were gay, I thought it wasn't going to happen." When Kurt winced, he continued, "And if it didn't and you decided you didn't want kids, that would've been fine. Or if you decided to adopt, that would've worked, too."

Kurt nodded his head. It made sense. Granted, he couldn't imagine being a grandfather now that he was just barely getting used to the idea of being a father, but he figured it was something normal. Something older fathers did once they realized they were having a boy.

"Did you and mom ever want more kids?"

Burt hummed contemplatively. "It was something we had talked about, but then forgotten when she got sick. She had wanted you to have a sibling growing up."

"But she got sick when I was seven," Kurt murmured.

Burt visibly saddened, and Kurt inwardly cursed himself. "No, Kurt. Your mom got sick when you were two," his father said softly. "She did chemo, and then she went into remission. It wasn't until you were seven that she relapsed, and it was easier to tell you that she had just gotten sick instead of explaining everything."

Kurt nodded and ignored the pain in his heart. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "How do you think she'd react to, you know, all of this?"

Burt sighed. "Oh, Kurt. Your mother…she was a firecracker. That's what attracted me to her in the first place, you know. She always believed that you should stand up for what was right, even if it meant standing alone." The elder Hummel smiled wistfully. "To answer your question, I fully believe we would have had to bail your mother out of jail in response to all of this."

Kurt was startled into laughter. "Seriously?"

"Your mother was as sweet as they come, but hurt her family and…" Burt laughed and shook his head. "God, I loved that about her."

It was bittersweet, his father telling him about his mother. They both missed her terribly, but it was getting easier to talk about all of the good memories they still had of her. By the time the afternoon rolled around, the room was in tip-top shape. Kurt separated the basement into two sections. The first section was the entertainment area where he had his TV, fold-out couch, DVDs, computer, books, and his desk. The second section was his bedroom area which was rearranged and now had a crib, changing table, and bassinet along with his own stuff.

After a quick, healthy lunch, the pair journeyed outside to join the local gym. Of course, Kurt begged his father to let him drive the Navigator, which Burt allowed with an indulgent smile. To show his appreciation, Kurt hooked up his iPhone and sang Mellencamp with his father the whole ride there.

Working out at the gym was definitely not something Kurt had ever thought he'd do. For one, a good portion of the homophobes in Lima frequented the gym. But after The Incident, Kurt never wanted to be taken advantage of ever again. He could understand that what happened wasn't his fault and he didn't have any control of it, but he was a boy. As much as he hated gender roles and found himself easily slipping into ambiguity where they were concerned, Kurt was a boy and he needed to be strong enough to take care of himself.

He didn't want to beef up like, say, Puckerman from school, but he did want to be able to defend himself.

Truth be told, Kurt enjoyed his time at the gym with his father. He hated sweating and he hated his hair getting messed up, but he enjoyed laughing with his father as they both realized just how out of shape they were. Kurt wasn't as out of shape as his father, which he attributed to the long hours he spent practicing his dancing in the privacy of his room, but not being able to run for twenty minutes on the treadmill without losing his breath embarrassed him.

Burt was definitely worse off. That was probably because after Elizabeth passed, he didn't really bother to take care of himself. Not the way he should have, at least. He made sure he and Kurt were fed every day, but he didn't work on taking care of his body past that. Still, the father and son enjoyed their bonding over the pain they felt every time they tried to move by the end of the session.

"Dad?"

Kurt was driving back to their house where they both planned on taking long showers. At first Kurt had planned to shower at the gym, but once he had seen the showers he had all but run from the room screaming, leaving Burt no choice but to follow him laughing all the while.

"Hm?"

Kurt chewed on his lip a little. "I was thinking…well, what I wanted to…um…" He took a deep breath. "I want to get a tattoo."

Burt cocked an eyebrow at him. "I thought you didn't want to mar your 'perfectly smooth alabaster skin' and that they were distasteful?" He didn't sound accusing, simply curious.

Kurt nodded his head. "Some of them are distasteful. Why get something stupid like a unicorn that will only look like a pterodactyl when you turn ninety?" He smiled as his father chuckled. "I guess if a unicorn meant something to someone I'd understand why they'd want it. And given everything that happened recently, I want one to mean something to me."

Burt nodded his head, still looking thoughtful. "And what did you want to get?"

"I was doing some research…" Kurt paused nervously, tightening and loosening his grip on the steering wheel, continuing only at his father's reassuring nod. "On the support forum Dr. Prescott recommended, one of the users posted a picture of her tattoo. It's called the Survivor's Mark, and it's for people who overcame s-sexual abuse. It's two palm prints, one black and one a sort of yellow-ish gold. The black signifies the darkness that touched me, and the gold signifies the light to fight the darkness. And as I was reading the creator's story, I felt a little bit stronger. I'm not a _victim_, I'm a _survivor_. So I wanted to get that tattooed on me along with their motto: _Marked, but not maimed. Bent, but not broken._"

It was silent in the car for a moment. Burt let out a shaky sigh, and Kurt realized his father was struggling to hold it together. "It's your body, Kurt," Burt said after a moment. "It is your body, and you can do what you want with it. I won't take away that choice from you."

Kurt teared up. Hearing that made his heart clench, but not painfully. It was a statement he had always believed until The Incident ripped that belief away from him. "Dad…"

"But we need to establish some ground rules," Burt continued. "You'll pay for your own tattoos."

"Okay," Kurt said excitedly, wiping away his tears.

"You have to properly take care of them, and that means also getting them at an accredited tattoo parlor. I don't want you to get infected or sick from them."

Kurt huffed. "Dad, that's kind of a given. I don't want to _ruin_ my body."

"And please, please, _please_," his father pleaded, continuing as if he didn't hear his son, "don't get a naked man inked on you."

The countertenor burst into laughter. "No way!" He gave his father a sly look. "By the time I'm an old man he won't look hot anymore."

The pair shared another laugh before Burt spoke up again. "Honestly, Kurt, I think it'd be a beautiful tattoo. It's something meaningful, something you won't regret later in life."

Kurt smiled. The rest of the drive was done in comfortable silence. When they arrived home, they quickly escaped to their respective bathrooms to shower. It was nearing the early evening, and Burt wanted to check on the shop. Kurt dressed rather casually so he could help out. While he wasn't scheduled to work today, Kurt more often than not ended up helping out whenever he went there.

Having grown up surrounded by cars, Kurt certainly shared his father's passion. If he was at the shop and stuff needed to be done, he generally helped out without a problem since most of the time he was free due to his lack of a social life. In the long run it really helped the shop run more smoothly. Though it was rare, there have been times when Burt hired an unreliable employee and Kurt had had to fill in on short notice. They had an excellent team now consisting of some guys that Kurt had known since he was in diapers and a few newer people, but Kurt still liked to lend a hand whenever it was possible.

When he went upstairs, his father wasn't out of the shower yet. He took a seat on the couch and started playing with his phone. He didn't have to wait too long before his father was ready and they were whisked away to the shop. Burt made a beeline towards Jimmy who looked completely unsurprised but happy to see him.

While the two disappeared into the office to talk (and probably go over inventory), Kurt greeted the crew and set about finding something to do. He happily plugged in his iPhone and let his eclectic taste in music fill the shop. Sometimes a song came on that everybody knew and they all sang along. Kurt especially loved when _Greased Lightning_ came on and several of the guys tried to dance along. They didn't complain when some of his favorite show tunes came on, and Kurt loved that they were open about his music.

Time passed without much fuss. Burt and Jimmy were in the office for a while going over inventory and things before rejoining the rest of the crew to help out. Kurt busied himself with cleaning until his father sent one of the guys home early and let Kurt take his place.

Shortly before the shop was set to close, a car pulled up. Kurt blinked as the entire family stepped out. He recognized the girl immediately. She went to McKinley high and was a part of Mr. Ryerson's glee club. Kurt wasn't sure how anybody could willingly spend time with a creepy guy like him, but then again the girl before him wasn't exactly known for being all there.

She wasn't stupid by any means. No, Rachel Berry was actually quite smart. But she was also a diva (he'd seen one of her MySpace videos, and good GOD the horrible barrage of derogatory comments would have made many people think twice about continuing to post them) and she had an overbearing, condescending personality. Kurt didn't know her personally, but he'd seen her taking a slushie or two to the face, and he'd also seen her speaking rather harshly to her fellow glee club member Hank.

He eyed her two dads with a curious air. It took a lot of guts to be openly gay in a town as close minded as Lima, Ohio (and he would know). They weren't bad looking for older gentlemen, but considering how their daughter had turned out, Kurt was a little wary about speaking to them. _Don't judge a book by its cover_, he thought to himself. He didn't know them, and had only seen them occasionally in the mall or the supermarket, so he'd have to withhold judgment.

"Hi, welcome to Hummel Tires & Lube," he said generically with a smile. "What can we do for you today?"

One of the men smiled. "Hi, yes, we need an oil change and we need to have our brakes checked out," he replied. "I think it may need more fluid, but I'd like to err on the side of caution."

Kurt smiled before going into professional mode and gathering all of their information. For an older car (1996 Ford Taurus), it was obviously well loved and taken care of. "And have you been here before?"

The bespectacled one, Hiram, answered this time. "No, we normally go to Mitchell's, but their prices are just getting ridiculous."

Kurt nodded sympathetically. "I've been hearing that a lot," he murmured. And he had. But one auto shop's loss in customers was their gain, so he wasn't exactly complaining about it. "If you want to take a seat, I'll get started and we'll have her ready for you shortly."

"_You're_ a mechanic?"

Kurt looked at Rachel Berry and cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is that a problem?" he asked politely, but his tone shifted ever-so-slightly. A lot of people thought that because he was gay or because his voice was high or because he was into fashion that he didn't know about cars. He practically _grew up_ in the auto shop. How could he not know about cars? How could he _not_ develop a love for them as deep as his father's?

"Rachel!" Hiram looked scandalized and LeRoy cocked an eyebrow at her.

Rachel flushed. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that! It's just, I've seen you at school, you know. And you're always so concerned with fashion and your appearance and being a mechanic means getting dirty and you just didn't seem the type and I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend! I promise I'm not homophobic; these are obviously my two gay dads!"

Kurt looked at her in shock and amusement. He wasn't expecting that, and while it was kind of funny to watch, it was also like watching a train wreck. It was something he wanted to look away from, but found he couldn't. "Apology accepted," he said slowly. "I'm just going to go do that oil change now…"

He left as smoothly as he could, barely holding in a snort as LeRoy lightly chastised her. He worked efficiently, humming along to the music that was still playing. Just when he was nearly done, one of his favorite show tunes came on. Kurt couldn't stop smiling as he wiggled his hips a little to the beat. Before he could start singing, however, Rachel Berry beat him to it.

"_Every single day / I walk down the street / I hear people say / 'Baby's so sweet'_," she sang, and Kurt was momentarily taken aback.

She had a beautiful voice. He knew she was in glee club, and he had even seen one or two of her videos, but hearing her in person was somehow different. Her voice was strong and clear, easily hitting the notes perfectly. A part of him was very miffed about her taking Maureen's part, but she was doing a pretty good job of it. It was obvious that she sung this song before, and probably a lot. It was one of his favorite parts to sing and perhaps before The Incident changed and matured him, he would have thrown a diva fit the size of China, but now he just stopped to appreciate a job well done.

"_It won't work / I look before I leap / I love margins and discipline / I make lists in my sleep baby_," Kurt sang, ignoring the surprised noise Rachel made in favor of working on the car. He loved this song, and ultimately it didn't really matter which part he sang.

Before he knew it, him and Rachel were singing their hearts out as if they weren't in the shop getting her car's oil changed. Rachel hopped around, obviously seeing this as a performance and acting accordingly. Kurt let it slide since he himself was enjoying singing the duet with someone of his caliber, and their voices meshed in a way he hadn't expected. There were probably quite a few songs they could sing that would fit their voices beautifully, but Kurt wasn't sure if their unexpected duet would flourish into something more or die as a spontaneous act of harmony.

The song came to a close, and Kurt nearly jumped when the clapping started. Hiram, LeRoy, and Burt were applauding.

"I knew you had a set of pipes, Kurt, but _wow_. That was incredible," his father praised.

Kurt felt himself blush. He hadn't realized his father was right there, and he had even forgotten about Hiram and LeRoy.

Rachel beamed and did a small bow before turning on Kurt, who took a small step back. "That was amazing! You are vocally talented," she said, her voice too perky and chipper. "I think you will make an excellent Judy Garland to my Barbra Streisand!"

Kurt blinked, temporarily thrown for a loop and unsure of what to say. "Right," he settled for, because he honestly didn't know how else he was supposed to react. It was a random thing to say.

"What's your range? Can you only sing the high notes? Do you like any other musicals? Grease? Wicked? What about th—?"

"Rachel, honey, calm down," Hiram said, patting her shoulder soothingly.

Kurt stared at her wide eyed before he turned to LeRoy and started talking about the car. It was easier to talk about cars than about him singing. When they'd been friends, Grace hadn't been very caring about his singing talent. She'd only cared about fashion and any other interests were put on the back burner. Before long Burt had engaged the other men in a conversation about payment and advice and Kurt left to wash his hands.

When he came out, the men were still talking and Rachel was staring at him with a fidgety air. He offered her a small smile, and that was enough for her to practically march towards him.

"So, um, I think your voice compliments mine in an unparalleled display of talent and it would be a waste if we didn't sing again," she said. She sounded a little snotty, but Kurt could easily see how nervous and painfully hopeful she was.

It hit him that she most likely didn't have many, if any, friends. Having been there, Kurt unexpectedly felt a wave of sympathy and eyed her. He really did have a nice time singing, but he was still very much scarred from Grace's betrayal. With a glance at the older men, he noticed Burt constantly gazing over at him with an encouraging smile.

He stared at Rachel again, who started playing with the hem of her shirt and was avoiding his gaze. He was a soon-to-be dad and so hurt by Grace that he almost wanted to snub Rachel's hidden offer of friendship to avoid being hurt again. But at the same time, it was very nice to have a friend. And while Grace and their friendship ended in the most horrifying of ways, he didn't think Rachel would be the same. As the daughter of a gay couple, she knew the adversity he faced, and she also wouldn't have any expectations of making him straight.

So, heart thudding in his chest, Kurt decided to take a leap of faith and pulled out his phone.

"How about we exchange numbers and meet up before school starts again?" he said casually.

Rachel's head snapped up and she couldn't completely hide her shock or relief before she beamed. She pulled out a bedazzled phone (and lord that was hard for Kurt to stare at) and they exchanged numbers, Rachel being much more enthusiastic as she pressed the keys.

When the Berry family left with smiles of gratitude and an almost aggressive promise to text, Kurt started to clean up his mess and put things away.

"Made a new friend, Kurt?" Burt asked with a grin. He was obviously happy over the development. "You guys sounded amazing."

Kurt blushed. "Thanks, daddy."

They closed the shop in amiable silence, and Kurt snorted with laughter when he noticed Rachel had already texted him. His fingers flew over the screen as he texted back, and for the first time in months he realized that things truly were looking up.


	3. Arrival

Chapter 3 – Arrival

Kurt awoke when his phone beeped, signaling a text message. He groaned and put his pillow over his head in a feeble attempt to drown out the annoying spam. He didn't get much sleep last night, having stayed up very late to talk to an excited Rachel. Despite them being friends for about a month, the younger girl always seemed so excited to actually have someone to talk to. Kurt couldn't exactly blame her. He'd been in her shoes once, so he understood more than most that simple conversation with a peer really made a difference in someone's life.

And talking all night with Rachel Berry was surprisingly easy. They had a lot of common interests, more than what he thought was possible. In a way they were almost too similar. It was nice, though, to have a friend that loved the exact same movies and show tunes and passions as him. It was yet another difference between his friendship with Rachel and his past one with Grace, and he was grateful.

She was turning out to be a good friend. Kurt felt a little bad about keeping her in the dark regarding his impending parenthood, but he didn't want her treating him differently. And a part of him was very worried that she'd go running into the hills. In a way it felt like he was deceiving her by not revealing something that would be such a huge part of him, but he couldn't help but want to be her friend without worrying about his son for just a bit longer.

With a sigh, he managed to drag himself out of bed and rubbed his tired eyes. Whoever texted him had better be dying or something similar to spam his phone so much. Still disoriented, he blinked at his phone blearily…and kept blinking. It was a few moments before he could breathe again and he jumped into action.

_(**5:52 A.M.**) Kurt, this is Sandra Cook. Grace's water broke ten minutes ago. We're taking her to the hospital._

_(**5:59 A.M.**) Kurt, Sandra again. We're at the hospital. Room 181._

_(**7:18 A.M.**) Sandra. Grace is only four centimeters. It should be a few hours._

_(**8:42 A.M.**) Six centimeters now._

Kurt cursed and rapidly began putting on clothes. "DAD!" he yelled.

It didn't take long before he heard his father's footsteps racing down the stairs. Burt saw Kurt nearly dressed. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked slightly panicky.

"It's time," Kurt croaked out. He shoved the phone into his father's hand and watched as Burt read. Kurt's eyes were wide and he wanted nothing more than to panic because his son was going to be born _today_ and he had to step up to the plate and hope to be a father like his own and what if—

Burt pulled Kurt into a hug. "Breathe with me," he murmured, feeling Kurt slow his breathing to move in time with Burt's breaths. When he felt Kurt was calm enough, he continued, "Labor takes hours. The norm is anywhere between ten and twelve, but Grace is only sixteen so it can be different. Regardless, the baby isn't coming right _now_. We have a little time. I'm going to get dressed, and I know you hate it but we're going to have to get some fast food for breakfast. We'll eat on the way to the hospital, and we'll _get through this_. Okay?"

Kurt let out a sigh and nodded his head, feeling much calmer. He quickly typed out a reply and finished getting dressed. When they were ready, they loaded into Kurt's Navigator and turned on some music. Burt put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, and that was enough to distract Kurt of his racing heart and gnawing fear.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Kurt was nearly ready to throw up. The greasy food sat in his stomach heavily, and the walk to Grace's room made him feel heavier. Still, he put one foot in front of the other, and with his father at his side Kurt found the feeling became manageable.

With only another moment of hesitation, Kurt plucked his courage, remembered that nobody pushes a Hummel, and he knocked on the door.

"Come in."

It was interesting, to say the least, seeing Grace and her parents again. The last time they saw each other was that awful night, and all further negotiations regarding their entwined futures was handled by their parents. Kurt hadn't laid eyes on Grace since she confessed to drugging him, and it was surprisingly easy to see her face. A lot of that had to do with his father making him see a shrink, and he didn't feel panicked nausea being around Grace again. No, he felt that way because of the situation; because it was too soon for him to be a father, but for the life of him he couldn't find it in himself to give his baby up.

Kurt was surprised to feel angry at her. He'd had nightmares about this moment; about what he'd feel when he had to face her because of the birth of his son. He'd anticipated still feeling hurt, lost, betrayed, and sick. But anger had never been what he imagined. Kurt had every right to be angry. His life was going to be forever changed, and she was basically getting off scot-free. It wasn't fair. Yes, he'd chosen to keep the baby, but in a way even that wasn't a choice. _She_ decided to drug him. _She_ decided to have sex with him. _She_ decided to not use a condom.

But she wasn't really getting off scot-free, was she?

One look at the bags under her eyes, her tangled hair, the acne gracing her once flawless skin and Kurt could tell that she paid for her decision, but differently. It was too late for an abortion when she came clean to her parents about her pregnancy. Her fabled tale of her and Kurt spending a night of passion together proved false when she confessed that she drugged him. She lost her maternal rights in an effort to stay out of jail. Grace's life unraveled just as much as Kurt's, but the difference was that Kurt could live with himself with the decisions he'd made.

And maybe Grace didn't regret what she did now, but in ten or twenty years, when she was older and maybe had more kids or even met someone who could love her back, maybe then she'd look at this point of her life and be properly ashamed.

Because Kurt couldn't believe that the first girl he befriended could turn out to be completely evil and rotten.

That didn't stop him from feeling angry, or even a bit of hatred towards her. But maybe, perhaps, losing her son would be enough punishment for now. Kurt wasn't a devout person by any means, but he liked the idea of karma. He liked the idea that everybody that had ever tormented him would get their comeuppance in due time, and Grace's name was added to a long list.

"Kurt," Grace whispered, her eyes filling up with tears. Some escaped her eyes and rolled down her face, but Kurt stared at her impassively. His resolve hardened, and the nerves he felt for most of the morning seemed to dissipate. "Please, please you can't _do_ this."

"_I_ didn't do anything," Kurt said quietly. He wanted to put on his bitchiest glare and sneer at her, but that was childish, and he had to be the mature one.

Grace let out a small sob. "It's not fair!" she cried. "I helped create him. I deserve to—"

Kurt cut her off. "You deserve to go to jail for what you did to me," he said tightly. "And the last thing you deserve to be part of the baby's life. You're capable of _rape_. Who knows what else you're capable of?"

Whatever pity Kurt had felt at Grace losing her maternal rights died a swift death. While he did believe it was wrong to keep a parent away from their child, he also believed that keeping her away from his baby was the right decision. She raped him; why should she get a say in what happens in the baby's life? If the tables had been turned, if she were a boy and he a girl, there would be absolutely no question that Grace would never be involved in the baby's life.

The room grew awkward, and uncomfortable. Burt had his arms crossed over his chest, and he obviously was trying to withhold his own scathing remarks. He supported his son, and the only reason he controlled his temper in regards to Grace was because of her age. Her parents obviously wanted to protect their daughter, but at the same time they couldn't protect her from everything. She'd made a bad decision, and she had to face the consequences. Grace wasn't in the right mind to raise a child.

"I can fight," Grace whispered.

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "You can try," he corrected. "While any physical evidence of what you did to me is gone, I do have an audio recording of you confessing." And he did. It was a spur of the moment thing, to set up a tape recorder when the Cooks had come over. He didn't know if he could use it in court, but the threat along would ensure that the Cooks, particularly Grace, would stay away.

Grace gaped. She stared at him before sniffling. "The Kurt I knew was kind and compassionate."

Kurt shrugged. "The Grace I knew would never have raped me. I guess we didn't know each other very well." He let her digest that for a moment before he spoke again. "I'll wait outside. Once the baby is born, we can sign the papers and not cross paths again."

Grace's mother, Sandra, gave him a brittle smile. She seemed to have aged since they last saw each other, and he could understand her and even feel bad for her. But he wouldn't change his mind.

He left the room with little fuss, his father behind him. He could hear Grace beg her parents for help, but her cries were cut off with her father's stern remarks and her mother's soft yet firm replies. They wouldn't change their minds, either. It must be hard for them to come to terms with the fact that the sweet daughter they raised had the capacity to do something so horrible.

"Do you think she'll really fight?" Kurt asked his father after the silence got to him. They had walked down the hall to sit in the waiting room. It was full with family members, some excited fathers and some nervous ones. There was the occasional distressed and distraught man, but Kurt wasn't paying a lot of attention to them. He had enough on his plate right now.

Burt let out a heavy sigh. "The girl is kind of a wild card," he admitted with a grimace, "and can really benefit from seeing a therapist. Will she fight? I don't know. It's obvious she wants to, but anyone who thinks it's okay to slip someone a drug to 'help' them love her isn't fit to raise a child. I know this, you know this, and her parents know this. They will prevent her from trying, and if she's insistent, well, we'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it."

Kurt nodded his head. There was a long moment of silence before he blandly remarked, "My life never used to be this complicated."

Burt let out a snort before he shook his head, and Kurt smiled. The next couple of hours were spent waiting. The pair both took turns alternating between playing on their phones and pacing.

Kurt's cell phone went off. He grabbed it quickly and, seeing Rachel calling, answered it with a quiet, "Hello."

"Hello, Kurt!" Rachel greeted as enthusiastic as ever. "I was wondering if we were still on for a movie night at my house."

Kurt winced; he completely forgot he'd made plans with her. "I…sorry, Rachel, something came up. I can't tonight."

"But," Rachel protested, "tonight we were going to watch _RENT_!"

"I know, and I'm really sorry. I really can't. This is important."

"Are you okay? Is your dad okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"What?! No, Rachel, honestly I'm fine," Kurt insisted, feeling rather incredulous.

"Then what's wrong?"

Kurt frowned at how pushy he was, but before he could reply, he saw Sandra come into the waiting room. "I'll explain everything later, Rachel, but I have to go now," he said. He hung up before she could ask more questions and put his phone on vibrate before shoving it in his pocket. Burt was already on his feet and talking with Sandra.

His father turned to him. "Show time," he said softly. "Did you want to be in the room?"

Kurt nearly recoiled. Did he want to see his son being born? No way. Just thinking about lady parts being stretched and bloody to squeeze a tiny human out was making him green. One glance at Sandra's nonchalant expression and Kurt knew that she wanted to be there for her daughter, but was willing to allow him to do that because he'd been wronged.

"No, no, that's okay," Kurt hurried to state. "I'll just wait on the outside."

Sandra gave him a small smile, obviously relieved. She nodded her head and left.

Burt gave his son a firm pat on the back and the Hummels returned to waiting. Kurt's phone buzzed a few times, no doubt Rachel trying to call him back, but he ignored it. He took several deep breaths to further calm himself. His son would be born soon. He'd given a lot of thought to the name over the past few months, and it wasn't until just over six weeks ago that he discovered the perfect one. Kurt hadn't shared it with his father yet, and he knew the older man was incredibly curious, but he wanted it to be a surprise.

It wasn't until another couple of hours that they were greeted by Grace's father, Brian. "The baby's been moved to the observation room," he said softly. "But he's healthy. Seventeen inches and seven pounds twelve ounces."

Burt nodded cordially at him before turning to Kurt. "Want to go meet him?" he inquired.

Kurt nodded shakily before he stood up and followed Brian. He could see a lot of babies through the glass window, most of them swaddled in pink blankets. It wasn't until the nurse, spotting Brian, picked up a baby and brought him to the window that Kurt laid eyes on his son.

The baby was gorgeous in a way that most babies weren't. Maybe that was his own bias speaking, but Kurt had always held the opinion that most babies were born ugly as hell. Their skin was still wrinkly and they looked more like an alien than a human. But here, gazing at his son with hungry eyes, he couldn't help but think that his little baby boy was perfect. He had a button nose, full pouty mouth, and almond shaped eyes. Kurt twitched when he saw some of Grace in his son's chin, ears, and cheekbones.

"Do you have a name?" Brian asked quietly.

Kurt looked at him and nodded. "Ethan," he replied. "Ethan Burt Hummel."

His father let out a sound akin to a whimper, but it was ignored.

Brian nodded. "It's a good name," he said. His smile was a little fixed. "I don't know why Grace did what she did," he said suddenly. His eyes became wet. "She…we didn't raise her that way. And Sandra and I have had a hard time coming to terms with the little girl we raised and this _ugly_ thing she did."

"She's young," Burt replied. "Young, and although not by any means stupid, doesn't fully understand the repercussions of her actions."

Brian's lips thinned. He wanted to defend his daughter, but what she did was inexcusable and not defendable. "I know it means very little, but we are…greatly _despaired_…at all that happened," he said carefully.

Kurt was thankful he didn't say sorry. He'd had enough of feeling sorry for himself these past few months, and he didn't want anyone else's sorrow. He wanted to move on with his life regardless of how apprehensive he was. Kurt observed Brian, saw the quiet longing in his gaze as he stared at his grandson, and came to a decision.

"If…" He paused to clear his throat. "If you and Mrs. Cook want, I can send you pictures of Ethan," he offered quietly. He could feel his father's gaze burn into the side of his head, but he ignored it and continued. "I don't want Grace to have any part in his life. I don't trust her, and I think she's too unstable to be around a child. But I also believe that you and Mrs. Cook didn't ask for this either, and I don't mind sending pictures as he grows up."

Brian stared at him, his eyes still wet and the muscles in his throat twitched. He licked his lips. "I know I would," he confessed softly. "I'll have to talk to my wife."

Kurt nodded. "You have my phone number." He let the silence fill the air for a moment as all three of them watched as Ethan was once again placed in the bassinet. "Did Grace sign the papers yet?"

"She did." They turned to Sandra who gave them a worn out expression. She continued, "Grace needs a few moments to herself."

Kurt nodded understandingly. "When will Ethan be ready for me to take home?"

Sandra visibly startled at the name before regaining some composure. "It'll be a few days. He's a healthy baby, so keeping him a few days is just routine."

Burt clasped his son on the shoulder and led him away from the Cooks. He enveloped Kurt in a big, warm hug. They didn't need to say any words and just enjoyed the comfort of the embrace.

Brian had used the time to talk to Sandra, and judging by her blotchy yet happy expression, they were going to take Kurt up on his offer. Soon after, Kurt was presented with the birth certificate to sign. He didn't get the chance to hold Ethan before they had to leave, but Kurt would be returning the next day, and Ethan would be going home with him in the next three.

The Hummels left the hospital with little fuss. They didn't see Grace again, which Kurt was thankful for, and the drive was uneventful. When they arrived home, Burt was quick to dress and leave for work, and Kurt finally checked his phone. He missed six calls, nine text messages, and three voicemails from Rachel.

He took a deep breath before going through them all. They pretty much said the same thing, wondering if he was okay, why he canceled, and if she had done anything wrong. Kurt gripped his phone tightly, and wondered if he'd lose his currently only friend over everything.

The phone rang only twice before Rachel picked up. "Hello? Kurt? Is everything okay? I didn't do anything to offend you, right?"

Kurt winced at her worried tone. "No, Rachel, you didn't do anything. What happened today was just something important I had to do, and I didn't know how to tell you."

Rachel paused for a moment. "…you're not into drugs, are you? Because recreational drug usage can damage your vocal chords, and it is not the answer to whatever problems you may have! I highly recommend exercise, or eve—"

"Rachel, I'm not a druggie," Kurt deadpanned. "I…actually, do you mind coming over? So we can talk face to face?"

There was a moment of silence before Rachel blurted out, "If you're going to break off our friendship, I'd much rather it being done over the phone so that I—"

Kurt rubbed his face tiredly. "Rachel, I don't want to end our friendship. I…I really like being friends with you," he admitted. "But I haven't been totally honest with you, and you might not want to be friends with me after I tell you what's been going on in my life. So, please, can we talk about this face to face?"

It didn't take long for Rachel to get there. He winced when he saw her clothes, but managed to keep his comments about her old cat lady style to himself. She stared at him nervously and with a small amount of suspicion. "Are you in trouble, Kurt?" she asked seriously.

Kurt shook his head. Once she was seated, he stood up and began pacing. "So before I met you," he started, "I had a friend. Her name was Grace. We were pretty close, and she was there at a point in my life when I really needed a friend."

Rachel nodded her head hesitantly. "What happened?"

Kurt grimaced and swallowed thickly. "Well, uh, long story short, we are no longer friends." Such an understatement, he though bitterly before continuing. "But we did have a night together…and, well, my son was born not too long ago."

If he wasn't so worried about losing her as a friend, he would have laughed at her expression. Her eyes and mouth were comically wide, but that didn't ease Kurt's tension.

"You…you have a son?" she whispered.

He nodded his head solemnly. "Yeah."

She blinked rapidly in an attempt to process everything. "But you're gay!" she exclaimed. She paused for a moment. "Were…were you confused? Like, did you want to make sure? Because my dad LeRoy went through the same thing, and that's perfectly okay."

Kurt smiled slowly at her, and if there was a hint of bitterness in his smile, well, he had a perfectly good reason for it. "No, no. I knew I was gay. I've known who I was and what I liked since I was five," he stated. "That night…it wasn't supposed to happen. I don't like women that way, and I never will."

Rachel smoothed her hideous skirt and cocked her head to the side. "I don't understand," she confessed with a slight frown. "If you're gay, how did you have sex with a woman to produce a child?"

Kurt's fist tightened of its own accord. How could he answer this without divulging every single horrid detail? How could he gloss over it so that she wouldn't see him as a victim? But looking at her obviously not running from him for being a teenage father and trying to understand how he got into this situation, Kurt took a small leap of faith and decided to tell her.

"That night," he said, licking his dry lips with a dryer tongue, "Grace slipped something into my drink. I remember flashes, but the only thing that is clear is waking up next to her and running away once I realized what had happened."

Kurt looked down and took a deep breath. There. He said it without including that four-letter R word or victimizing himself.

Before he knew it, Rachel's arms encircled around him. He blinked in surprise and gaped when she finally pulled away with tears in her eyes. "Kurt, that…that's awful," she choked out. "How could anyone do that? How could someone who is supposed to be your _friend_ do that to you?"

"I've asked myself that many times," he admitted. "But I don't know. I can't match the girl who used to be my best friend with the girl that decided she didn't need my consent to have sex with me. And now I have a son to take care of and be responsible for because she didn't even have the decency to put on a damn condom."

Rachel wiped her eyes. "I'm here for you," she said determinedly. "Anybody who would abandon a friend in need isn't a friend at all. And I want you to know that I will be here. Because you're quickly becoming my best friend, and I won't leave you alone."

Kurt stared at her for a moment before smiling. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

They spent the rest of the night talking. He showed her the picture he took of Ethan with his phone, and before she went home, they were closer than ever. _This_ was what real friends were supposed to be like.

He slept peacefully that night, dreaming of his son which was for once not terror-inducing.


End file.
